The next day Thranduil finds his mind wandering, consistently ending up back on his Captain. No matter how much he tries to urge himself to stay focused on the task at hand, finalizing the memorial of his fallen soldiers, and ensuring all the widows are well cared for, he inevitably ends up thinking about Tauriel.
It seemed like there was real progress made the night before, but if he knows anything about progress after the loss of a loved one, he knows that relapse is not out of the question. It is because of this knowledge and his wandering mind, Tauriel's matronly maid, Arodeth, who has never even spoken to the king before, finds herself summoned to a private conference.
Thranduil is sitting behind his desk in his council room when Arodeth is shown in. She stops to stand in the middle of the room, her hands fidgeting despite the tall, cool, demeanor she is trying to present.
"Arodeth, isn't it?" he asks, glancing up from his scrolls.
"Yes, your majesty," she says, bowing.
"You're probably wondering why I have summoned you."
"I'm so sorry," the maid bursts, stepping forward. "I really tried to get her to eat. I even asked around to find out her favorite foods, and when that didn't work I begged someone to alert you… or someone who could help her."
"That's not why you're here, though I do appreciate the care you've shown for Tauriel. I merely wanted to ask you how she was doing today?"
"Oh," the maid sighs, sounding relieved, but then she continues with a less relieved sounding, "oh. Well, she hasn't drank any more wine since before you called on her yesterday—"
"That's something."
"—but she didn't touch breakfast or lunch again," she finishes with a grimace.
"I see."
Thranduil muses whether it was just his own dealings with loss that tipped him off something was still wrong, or if it was something else entirely.
"Do you have any suggestions as to what we—I can do?" Arodeth asks.
He nods.
"Tell Tauriel I insist upon her joining me for dinner once more."
"Yes, your majesty," the maid says, bowing.
Thranduil nods her dismissal and returns his attention to his scrolls, or at least pretends to.
"And can I just say," Arodeth begins, drawing his eyes back up, "how wonderful I think it is for you to take such a special interest in her well being?"
"Special interest? I wouldn't go so far as to call it a special interest… more of a general interest. For the Kingdom. She is a very valuable member of the Guard."
An arched eyebrow, almost rivaling his own arching abilities, tells him that the maid doesn't quite believe his rambling. He dismisses her again, grateful that this time she leaves.
He has work to attend; work that certainly does not involve his thoughts zeroing in on one suffering Captain, when there are so many heartbroken members of his realm at the moment.
X
Tauriel wakes much earlier than she would like to, and with her head less muddled than it has been in weeks. She's not fond of it. Waking earlier gives her more time to dwell on thoughts she'd rather not, and less muddled means dwelling with clarity.
She contemplates walking the corridors, a habit she picked as a child when she was unable to sleep, but that is a hobby best left for midnight strolls unless she wants to be stopped by everyone she passes.
Not in the mood for polite discussion, Tauriel tries to lose herself in a book. She gets three pages in before some reference causes her mind to wander to Kili. Choosing another book she makes it five pages before she's thinking of her parents.
Why does one tragedy insist on dredging up all tragedy in your life?
She throws the book across the room, and it hits the wall just as the door opens and Arodeth steps in. The maid jumps visibly and Tauriel grimaces.
"I suppose I should have knocked, sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. That wasn't aimed at you," Tauriel apologizes.
Arodeth had been in and out all day under some pretense or another. Dusting, changing the bed linens now that Tauriel was out of the way, delivering food that went untouched.
Tauriel wonders what pretense brings the maid to check on her this time.
"My Lady, the King would like to extend another invitation for you to join him for dinner tonight."
"Is that an actual invitation? Or is it the kind of invitation I am not allowed to decline?"
"He did not say, but I hardly think it proper manners to decline our King anything he ask," Arodeth says, a bit indignant.
Tauriel sighs.
"I suppose I should go. He could still charge me with treason," she adds under her breath.
"Treason?" the maid asks, closing the door quickly.
Feeling the beginning of a smirk, Tauriel can't help herself; she loves how uptight the older elves around here can be and her and Legolas loved to tease them.
"Oh yes. I threatened the King. I aimed an arrow at his face during the battle."
Arodeth gasps and claps a hand over her mouth, and Tauriel has to turn away to hide her small smile.
"Well, in that case you had best not decline his offer. In fact, I expect you to be on your best behavior!" the maid chastises.
Normally being ordered around would set Tauriel on edge, but something about this woman is comforting and she actually enjoys listening to the tirade about manners as she is dressed and primped for dinner.
Tonight she pays closer attention to what she is wearing. A flowing emerald gown, that has much more flow than it should. She didn't realize just how much weight she dropped since the battle. Upon inspecting her face and finding just how unhealthy she looks, Tauriel vows to make herself eat.
Kili would not want this.
Arodeth accompanies her to just outside the dining room, whispering tips on being a respectful dinner guest along the way.
They are dining in the same room as the previous night, only tonight Tauriel is much more aware of its beauty. Lavishly decorated in hanging silks and elaborate carvings, the room clearly reflects the King's refined tastes.
Speaking of the King, he is waiting for her, draped in green and silver, and rises when she enters.
Tauriel offers a bow, and Thranduil signals she again take the seat to his right.
"Good evening, my King," she says taking a seat. "Thank for the invitation. You honor me two nights in a row."
"Good evening," he says, eyeing her almost suspiciously. "I was hoping to inquire after your well being."
"I'm doing much better," she lies.
"Tauriel."
"I'm— not doing any worse," she amends.
Thranduil nods, finding that an acceptable answer and pours her a glass of water.
"Please help yourself," he says, gesturing a table full of food.
Tonight she listens and fills her plate, just briefly catching the look of satisfaction on the King's face.
They begin eating in silence and Tauriel has no idea what to say. She's not entirely sure why she's here, or why the King seems to be so concerned with her.
"I have been… distracted," she says finally, breaking the silence. "Caught up in my own problems. I never asked, how many? At the battle. How many did we—?"
"One hundred and thirty-seven losses," he says stiffly.
Tauriel bows her head, ashamed she never once considered the fate of her people, so consumed in her own grief she was.
"I'm sorry. A tragic loss."
Dinner grows quiet again, both lost in their own thoughts.
"Have you considered when you will be coming back?" the King asks eventually.
"Coming back?"
"To the guard. I know you need time to grieve, and I will not rush you, but you are needed. Now more than ever."
"No, I really hadn't thought about it. I guess I didn't realize avoiding treason included keeping my place among the guard."
"You're one of the best, it would be foolish to let that go to waste."
"Thank you," she says, feeling her cheeks flush.
While she had been the youngest person ever named a Captain of the Guard, she'd never received a sincere compliment on her skills before from the King.
"Since Legolas has left us, we need all the talent we can get. His is a difficult space to fill," he says, voice stiff and neutral, but when she looks into his eyes she can see the emotion swimming just below the surface.
"Why did he leave?" she asks.
Thranduil's eyes harden, and he turns his gaze to his plate.
"I think we both know the answer to that."
Feeling her throat tighten, Tauriel sets her fork down and picks up her goblet, feigning a drink and trying not to draw attention to herself. She knows her guilt must be written all over her face.
The guilt fades quickly enough, and she feels the need to defend herself.
"I never encouraged him," she swears. "He's been like a brother to me. And— and I was always more interested in my training, and then in the guard than in anything of that sort."
"Not always, if recent activities are taken into account."
Her mouth pops open in shock.
Seeming to catch his mistake, Thranduil tries to speak, but she cuts him off.
"Tauriel—"
"Thank you for dinner," she says coolly, throwing her napkin on the table. "I'll show myself out.
Before he says another word, Tauriel storms across the room and out the door, rushing so he won't see the angry tears on her cheeks.
She's thankful Arodeth isn't around when she returns to her bedchamber, sure the maid would have some relentless commentary on the rudeness of walking out on one's king.
Tauriel desperately wants to tell the guard to have a bottle, or two, of wine or honey mead or anything sent up to help her sleep… to forget… but she knows that would likely bring Arodeth as well. Instead she strips out of her dinner clothes, undoes her braids, and climbs into bed.
Sleep does not come easily, and when she does finally manage to drift off she is haunted by nightmares; first of Kili, then of her parents.
She wakes in the middle of the night gasping, and covered in sweat. She needs fresh air and something else.
Tauriel climbs out of bed and slips into a long white robe. She's not concerned with modesty at this hour, where she's going no one will see her. After grabbing a brass key from her desk drawer she peeks outside her door to find the guard gone. Feeling lucky, she slips out unnoticed.
X
He doesn't know why he said what he did. He knows it was cruel, and that it hurt her, which had not been his intent. He just grows so upset when thinking about how far Legolas is from home, and how unsafe.
Thranduil sinks onto a stone bench, and tilts his head back to look at the stars.
He hardly ever comes here anymore, never finding the time, but tonight he needed the light and the comfort it offers.
His private garden. Nestled at the top of the palace and securely hidden from sight if any enemy scouts are watching.
So peaceful.
The air is filled with the aromatics of the flowers surrounding him; Evening Primrose, Moon Flowers, and Dragon Fruit Flowers. All of which only bloom at night, under the light of the moon.
Inhaling deeply he drops his gaze to the stone pond at his feet and feels his heart jump into his throat at the reflection he sees.
"Gilrin," he breathes, jumping to his feet and turning around.
She's standing before him, wearing a crown of starlight, with her gauzy white robe glowing.
"My King!"
Thranduil blinks in confusion, and his senses clear.
"Tauriel?"
"I'm sorry," she rushes, "I didn't think anyone would be up here."
"How did you get up here?" he asks.
She bites her lip and holds up a brass key, identical to the one in his pocket.
"Legolas gave it to me. I'm sorry, you can have it back."
Tauriel tentatively walks over to him, and then reaches out to push the key into his hand.
"S—sorry, again," she whispers, dropping her head and turning away.
Thranduil, acting without thinking, catches her wrist as she turns.
"You don't have to go, please."
He releases her wrist and she turns back to face him slowly, pulling her robe tighter around her.
Stepping back, he gestures to the bench and she eyes him questioningly before slowly moving to sit down.
Thranduil sits beside her, feeling foolish, and wondering if she heard him when he saw her reflection.
"Allow me to apologize," he says softly, "for my callous remark this evening at dinner. I allowed myself to take my anger towards my foolish son, and direct it at you, most cruelly. I hope you can forgive me."
"Yes, I forgive you. I'm worried about him too."
Swallowing, Thranduil fiddles with the hem of his jacket, wondering if he should make an excuse and leave her to have the alone time she was seeking. Curiosity gets the best of him, though, and instead he decides to pry.
"What brings you up here in the middle of the night?"
"Nightmares. And starlight," she replies. "It usually helps clear my thoughts."
"Do you… wish to talk about it?" he asks.
Tauriel looks up at him and he feels the oddest sensation building in his stomach when he looks into her eyes, reflecting the night sky back at him.
"It was about Kili," she starts, and the sensation he was feeling disappears all at once, "at least it began that way. I watched him die again, only this time I didn't recognize the Orc who murdered him… at first. Then my surroundings shifted, and I was back in my childhood village watching my parents… watching them die too."
On its own accord, Thranduil's hand reaches out for hers, trying to lend some comfort.
"I've always had bits and pieces of what happened to them haunt my dreams, but this was different. This time I saw the whole thing."
He remembers that day clearly, and wishes she didn't.
"You saved my life that day," she says, squeezing his hand. "No one ever told me it was you. I knew that it was you who welcomed me into your home, but I never realized it was you who rode in on your elk and beheaded the Orc that murdered my parents. The one that was about to kill me too."
"I didn't think you'd ever be burdened by those memories," he sighs. "You were so young."
He can still picture that ten-year-old little girl, an infant by elven standards, cowering and looking up in fear as that foul creature descended on her. His blood had boiled and it took no time to dispatch the beast.
Thranduil had scooped the child up himself and rode her to safety. The way she clung to him, so desperate, and so sad, he knew he couldn't just send her away for someone else to care for. He brought her home instead. She was raised and trained in his palace, and it's not something he has ever truly regretted.
"Is it normal for one loss, to bring up others you have suffered?" she asks.
"I think it depends on how personal the loss is, but I would say yes, I think in your case what you are experiencing is very normal."
Tauriel closes her eyes and tilts her head back, inhaling deeply.
"How are you feeling now?" he asks after a few moments.
"Honestly, I am feeling better. At least well enough to sleep."
"Would you like some time alone up here?"
"I don't want to chase you off," Tauriel tells him. "It is your garden."
"No, no, not at all. I think I am going to turn in. Will you be alright?"
Thranduil wants to give her space, but he also worries about leaving her alone with so many ghosts of her past haunting her.
"Yes, I'll be fine."
"Here," he says, offering her key back to her, "keep it. You may need it again."
"Thank you."
He bows his head to her, and is about to bid her goodnight, when she interrupts.
"Who is Gilrin?" she questions.
She did hear me.
"Was," Thranduil replies softly. "She was my wife."
With that he takes his leave, trying not to remember the pain Tauriel is going through, and the pain he knows all too well.
Author's Note: That was a much longer chapter than normal, but I really wanted to find the perfect cut off point. Thank you so much for the reviews, I am so glad you seem to be enjoying the story! Happy New Year and please let me know what you thought of this chapter!
Gilrin - (Gill-rinn) Meaning Lady Crowned with Stars in Elvish.